


Sweets for the Sweet

by Otoshigo



Series: MLB - Oneshots [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, Romance-ish, adrien loves pastries lets be clear on that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 05:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11937522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otoshigo/pseuds/Otoshigo
Summary: Adrien loves pastries. Maybe a little TOO much. Much to everyone’s detriment. [Adrien/Pastries... No, I’m kidding. Sort of.]





	Sweets for the Sweet

Adrien didn’t think of himself as a snoop.

He never went out of his way to eavesdrop on conversations. In fact, he always made it a point to announce himself whenever he came close to intruding on any private chats. He never wanted to embarrass anyone by overhearing anything that certainly wasn’t meant for his ears. Maybe this meant he wasn’t in the know. That he wasn’t much of a gossip. He was okay with that. As a celebrity, he knew very well that there was probably more than one classmate who might harbor a crush for him.

He just never expected one of those people to be Marinette.

Adrien really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just happened. He was just heading to his locker to pick up a book, when he’d walked right into it. Conversations tended to echo in the empty locker room, something to do with acoustics. Which meant on the other side of the lockers, he could hear the softly uttered words as though they came through a megaphone.

“This is it. I’m going to tell Adrien I love him.”

Freezing mid-step, the model stared past the lockers to the voice that came from the other side. One that he was incredibly familiar with. Although usually it came with a stutter.

_Marinette?_

Honestly, he should have just walked out right then. It was the responsible thing to do. Just walk out and pretend he’d never heard the words uttered in the first place. However, his feet just wouldn’t _move_ when he willed them and he found himself rooted to the spot.

“With sweets, huh?” came another very familiar voice. Alya. He should have known. She sounded amused and not at all surprised by the declaration. Which begged the question, just how long had Marinette had a crush on him?

“Well, they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Marinette replied, a smile in her voice. “At least that’s what Maman says.”

As if proving the idiom, Adrien involuntarily found himself salivating. Sweets? From Marinette’s bakery? From Marinette? Then he shook the thought off. No, no way. He wasn’t _that_ easy. Even if it sounded deliciously tempting.

“Okay, well it’ll keep until break, right? Let’s head onto class before you get _another_ tardy mark.”

“Okay, okay~” Marinette giggled, accompanied by the sound of a closing locker.

Finally, his feet found the strength to move. Only they brought him to a blindspot in the locker room to hide. The girls passed by, chatting about their first subject, none the wiser that he had ever been present.

Once they were alone, Plagg peeked his head out of Adrien’s pocket. “Oh ho~! What was all that about Marinette being ‘just’ a friend?” he said slyly, peering up at his charge.

“She is!” Adrien hissed back. The way his cheeks heated had nothing to do with any kind of romantic feelings. He was just mortified that he’d heard something so private. Something _obviously_ not meant for his ears.

Oh gosh, Marinette had a crush on him. How could this happen?! He thought they were _friends._ She knew him personally. How could _Marinette_ have some kind of celebrity crush on him? She wouldn’t. W-which meant... this was a _real_ crush.

The thought only set his cheeks even more aflame. Naturally, Plagg only cackled at his expense.

“Oh what’s the problem?” his unhelpful kwami asked. “You’re getting sweets out of this! You wouldn’t stop _talking_ about all the treats that you didn’t get to eat at her house. Now you get to!”

That... _was_ true. Adrien found himself growing conflicted. He’d like nothing more than to accept Marinette’s present of goodies. What was more of a problem was that his classmate’s feelings were attached to them. He _couldn’t_ accept them. He was in love with _Ladybug._

At the same time, he didn’t want to let Marinette down. In fact, he’d really just rather not have that encounter at all. He couldn’t stand the thought of inflicting any hurt on her.

Ugh, this was exactly _why_ he didn’t want to eavesdrop! He didn’t need to know things like this!

Adrien’s eyes snapped over to Marinette’s locker. A wild plan came into motion. “Plagg, get the sweets,” he hissed.

Plagg’s eyes lit up as his sunshine child showed a more devious side sans mask. “Alrighty~” he grinned, phasing into Marinette’s locker. The door popped open, revealing the little pink bag of cookies sitting pretty on top of the locker shelf. The kwami chucked the bag over to Adrien, who snapped the locker door closed. The model shoved the sweets into his bag, just as the bell rang for class.

Adrien hurried to the classroom, getting in right as Mme Bustier was about to start roll call. He got a chiding look, but not much else as the day commenced. However, he was already in his own little hell of anxiety as he sat on Marinette’s secret and his stolen merchandise. He could barely look back at his cute classmate, haunted with the knowledge that he’d somehow inadvertently done something to win her over.

The anxiety was only compounded with guilt when Marinette returned from break looking despondent and disheartened. However, the confession never came.

Safely back at home, Adrien contemplated what to do with the bag of cookies. He studied it on top of his desk, dissecting it as though it were the Riemann Hypothesis. It smelled buttery and divine, even with the fugly smell of cheese lingering in the background as Plagg snacked.

“You could just _eat_ it,” his kwami suggested archly.

“Wha- No, I _can’t,”_ Adrien replied, his cheeks warming. “Marinette put her heart into them!”

“Well, then toss them.”

“I can’t do that either!” the model cried. “For the same reason!”

Plagg stared at his charge. Adrien was well aware that the kwami thought himself the much wiser of the pair of them, seeing as he’d lived so much longer. However, he certainly didn’t go about imparting his wisdom in the most helpful way possible.

“Kid, you have to do one or the other. So what’s the lesser of two evils. I’ll give you a hint. There’s starving children in Africa.”

“I... Oh _fine,”_ the blond huffed. He supposed that all he was really doing was getting rid of the evidence. He was going to just have to eat his guilt. Carefully opening the bag, the smell of the fresh cookies only became all the more potent. It was like a heady perfume that made his stomach growl. Adrien only hesitated for a second before he bit down into a butter cookie.

The _taste_ very nearly undid him. Adrien melted into his chair just as the flavors of butter, vanilla, and sugar dissolved onto his tongue. “Ermagurd,” he groaned in ecstasy, taking another bite and another. In no time, half the bag was gone. Adrien forced himself to stop, just because he knew he was probably never going to get them again.

“Marinette’s heart tastes good, doesn’t it?” Plagg teased, while Adrien hid the cookies away into an airtight cannister in his room.

“Sh-shut up, Plagg!” the model blushed.

Try as he might, the cookies only lasted for another week. In all that time, Marinette didn’t seem keen to the idea of trying again with another cookie-confession. Which he only knew not because he was snooping, but he was just... _hyperaware_ of Marinette now. Maybe glancing surreptitiously at her locker or her bag to see if there were any delicious smells wafting from them.

W-which was good. Of course it was good. Adrien hoped that Marinette would give up on the idea. Of course. He didn’t want to break her heart.

Except it meant no more cookies.

Now that his stash was gone, the memory of them lingered, becoming more and more romanticized as the days passed. He couldn’t remember having _any_ cookie half as good as the ones Marinette made for him.

Adrien supposed he had this coming. For snooping. For stealing. For lying by omission. This was just karma biting him in the butt. If he was tormented with this for the rest of his life, it was his own doing.

Which was when he smelled the croissants.

Maybe it was his Chat senses. Maybe it was just that he was still hyper aware of Marinette-buttery scents. In any case, he smelled the croissants all the way from the hallway. Adrien perked up at the scent. Until he realized the croissants were accompanied with a happily bright Marinette. Oh no. She smiled at him. He smiled back. Albeit it was somewhat strained.

Another confession was coming. He could _smell_ it.

And it smelled _delicious._

No. No. Bad Adrien. _Bad._

Steeling himself, he plotted how best to steal away the pastries.

Plagg was oddly helpful in his endeavor. Although it didn’t take much strength for a kwami to pull a fire alarm. When everyone was evacuating, it was easy enough to sneak the pastries from Marinette’s backpack into his own bag. There were some suspicious nibbles in them when he got back home, but he wasn’t going to comment. Instead, he munched down the evidence with gusto.

(Un)fortunately, Marinette turned out to be quite persistent. Although she _had_ to know that something was up, she kept turning up with more and more baked goods to school. Third time was madeleines in the music room. Fourth were eclairs in English. Macarons in math. Hazelnut dacquoise in history. Bichon au citron in biology. Religieuse in recess, and so on. All brought at different times to try to trip up the mysterious thief. It was kind of like a game. It was also a little disconcerting to find out just how good of a cat thief he was without the mask.

It was also completely wrecking Adrien’s diet. Though all he had to show for it between his fencing, karate, and heroic extracurriculars was an extra pinch to his stomach. It was unsightly according to the designers and photographers on his shoots, but they wouldn’t dare say a word against Gabriel’s perfect son directly.

No, what was more a problem was that he was starting to associate the smell of any sugary sweets with Marinette. Like he was being conditioned with some kind of Pavlovian response. Any time he spotted gateau on a restaurant menu or passed by a patisserie in the car, his mind would automatically go to _her._ Ladybug even brought palmiers once to patrol and all he could think of when he bit into one was the classmate who sat behind him.

Somehow, without a confession of any kind, he’d become completely addicted.

Which only got to be a problem when the flow of pastries suddenly _stopped._ Out of the blue, Marinette’s persistence simply evaporated. He had no idea if the crush had simply gone away or if she was just tired of playing cat and mouse with her pastries at school.

Either way it left Adrien with a ravenous sweet tooth. One that wasn’t going to be satisfied by the occasional sorbet at home. Plagg even teased him when he was down to his very last, sad, stale cookie from his stash. “You’re looking at that as if it was the last piece of cheese on earth!” his unhelpful kwami cackled as he gobbled down a wheel of camembert. He wasn’t exactly far off the mark.

A week into his sudden exile into the dessert desert, the sugar cravings reared their ugly head, becoming more dire than any need for food or water. He was getting snippy with Nathalie and snide with his father. He was outright crass with his photographers and vengeful during fencing. To Nino and all his classmates, he was simply grumpy.

To Marinette...

“So... I don’t suppose you have anything to tell me, do you?” Adrien asked for the umpteenth time that day. He looked up hopefully to Marinette from his seat, voice hushed as Mme Bustier wrote on the board. Even without any pastries on her, he could _smell_ the scent of baked bread and spices from the bakery. It wasn’t as good as hot butter cookies, but it still made him salivate nonetheless. There was some remote chance she might have some on her. In an airtight container somewhere. Maybe all she needed was a little encouragement to bring it out. (Okay fine, he was a complete pastry whore. It was all _her_ fault.)

All he managed to do was make Marinette stammer into a stuttering mess. “N-n-n-no! I don’t- whatever could you be-! Hahahaha, you’re funny so, Adrien!” his classmate laughed hysterically, waving a dismissive hand.

Adrien glanced over to Alya, hoping the reporter would help him out. However, the auburn haired girl only looked to the side with a sly smile.

Groaning, the model slumped back into his seat. He could feel Plagg vibrating with restrained laughter in his pocket. It was utterly unappreciated.

“Marinette,” their professor called, drawing their attention back to the board. “Please come up and solve this problem.”

“Y-yes!” the raven haired girl replied, jumping to her feet. She passed by Adrien in a hurry. Which is when he smelled _that._

Chocolate. Vanilla. Cinnamon. _Sugar._

Adrien sucked in the smell as if it were the breath of life. She _did_ have cookies on her! So then why hadn’t he smelled it before-

His green eyes suddenly trained on the little clutch at her hip. Aha! It had to be there. He arched forward eagerly, looking like a panther on the prowl. Nino looked warily at him out of the corner of his eye, but before he could stop him, Adrien popped up to his feet.

“Ah, Mari, I’ll hold your purse!” he declared helpfully. And before anyone could object, least of all Marinette, he stole the clutch and headed back to his seat.

Marinette squeaked in shock, but Mme Bustier only sighed at the small disruption and said, “Marinette, the problem, please?” Reluctantly, his classmate stiffly turned back to the board, although she seemed to try to spy on him through the back of her head.

For good reason, as Adrien shamelessly opened up the clasps underneath the lip of his desk and out of sight.

Then he froze.

A tiny red being sat within. A being that struck a mighty big resemblance to a certain black kwami in his possession. It stared up at him, blue eyes wide and mouth agape, halfway through a chocolate chip cookie.

“Dude!” Nino hissed at him, jolting the model with a violent start. He couldn’t see the contents of Mari’s purse, but he could tell it was open. “What’s wrong with you!”

Adrien looked back down at the kwami. Then to the cookie. Then to the kwami again.

With a wink, he pinched the half eaten cookie and clasped the purse closed. He ate it right there, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as his deprived tastebuds were finally sated. Which is when he noticed Marinette choking and sputtering at the board, snapping the chalk in half as she stared at him munch away on her kwami’s treat. He simply smiled sweetly back at her.

Well. This was going to be fun.


End file.
